


Hospital Corners

by eiqhties



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, i accidentally made a character study about bedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 23:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1568486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiqhties/pseuds/eiqhties
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames is a morning person. </p><p>Arthur is distinctly <i>not</i> a morning person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hospital Corners

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Hospital Corners](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6160285) by [vichenta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vichenta/pseuds/vichenta)



To the people that don’t know them well, to the casual observer, you would assume that out of the two of them, Eames is more relaxed, more easily unorganised. He has always given off the impression that he’s the sort of person that could wake up at three in the afternoon and roll out of bed and into your underwear in an hour, effortlessly charming the whole time.

Eames has heard all the talk, naturally. It’s not like the dream sharing community is overtly large, and it’s certainly not sensitive, so people have never tried to whitewash their opinions of him. He finds them amusing, endearing, even. It almost seems as if people forget that he’s a forger, the sort of person that lives his life pretending to be something he’s not. It’s also as if they forget that a good disguise takes time and effort, something Eames would never be able to achieve if he got up at three in the afternoon. Please.

Eames is a morning person.

 

(“I refuse to believe what you’re telling me.” Arthur says when Eames tries to explain to him why he’s out of their bed before 10am. “Everyone in dream sharing sleeps as much as possible. I won’t accept that I am in a relationship, that I am _living with_ a person that voluntarily gets up before noon.”

Eames grins at him. “Darling, there are a lot of things about me you’ll have to accept.”

Arthur frowns at him, adorably grumpy, before he rolls over in the bed and pulls the sheets over his head. “Fuck off,” He replies, now muffled by his pillow, “Or come back to bed and have sex with me.”

Eames really doesn’t spend long debating that one.)

 

Arthur is distinctly _not_ a morning person.

It’s ridiculous, really. Eames is supposed to be the master of disguise, but even he can’t challenge the immaculacy of Arthur’s suits and hair. When they’d first met, Eames had made a snap judgment of Arthur, assumed that he was the sort of person that never cracked the spines on books and always drank tea with a saucer and his pinky finger sticking out.

He finds his original opinion hilarious now. Arthur can’t function on tea, and turns his nose up at anything that isn’t the strongest coffee he can find. Arthur doesn’t like books, says that with a job like his he never has enough time for them. He does, however, own the largest collection of movies that Eames has ever seen.

Arthur is not a tidy person. Arthur is organised, of course, meticulously so. He is efficient and deadly and as sharp as a knife. He is indisputably the best at his job, but he is not a tidy person.

Arthur has never once made their bed.

 

(“Stop telling lies, Eames, I made it that one time, when we first moved in together.”

“That doesn’t count, darling. You only changed the sheets because they were, quite frankly, getting so disgusting that even you couldn’t ignore them anymore.”)

 

Arthur in the mornings, whenever he eventually emerges from his cocoon of blankets and pillow, will take one look at the messy sheets, and then shuffle away to brush his teeth and consume about seventeen cups of coffee, leaving the bed to sort itself out.

Eames _hates_ this.

It’s something that provides endless amusement for Arthur, because for some reason, the only time Eames allows annoyance to actually show on his face is when there is an unmade bed involved. Arthur finds it interesting that Eames lets his façade drop for the simple things. Arthur finds it interesting when Eames lets his façade drop at all. It’s far too complicated being in love with a man that hides everything about him for a living.

 

(“Arthur,” Eames says to him, softly one night, “I didn’t know you could wear clothes that weren’t a suit.”

Arthur puts his hand on Eames’ face. “Eames,” He says, quite seriously, “There are a great many things you don’t know in this line of work.”

Eames looks at him, eyes soft, and replies, “But I want to.”)

 

Eames is a tidy person.

Undone buttons, creased suits, they are all part of the lie. Arthur finds it enticing. The less he knows about the ending of a movie, the more he loves it, this sort of logic also extends to people.

Eames is fussy, too. Not about food, though he always prefers it if he is cooking, but Eames is fussy about the placement of things, the way people move. Eames has more of an attention to detail than anyone else Arthur knows. It’s what makes him so good at forging. It’s what makes him so good at taking people apart.

Eames likes classic art, Van Gogh especially; he likes the way each stroke of paint is so carefully placed. Eames likes the way you can look at a piece of classic art and work out where they started, unravel it backwards, clean it up again. Eames likes the steadiness of it all. Arthur likes modern art, he likes surrealism, he likes seeing the whole picture and accepting that there’s something underneath, and then trying to find it. Arthur likes paradoxes because he’s always been in love with one.

 

(“I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” Eames says, eyelashes long against his cheeks.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “It’s the _only_ romantic thing I’ve ever said to you.”

But he kisses Eames afterwards, and Eames doesn't need the words when there are kisses like that.)

 

Eames likes hospital corners on his sheets.

That’s what had started it all, really, what makes Arthur sit up and take notice in the first place. They had been sharing a hotel room, and Eames had taken off the sheet, just to put it back on again, with hospital corners. This, this is the one thing Eames hadn’t let himself compromise on. 

Arthur still doesn’t make their sheets.

 

(“Darling,” Eames says, and there’s exasperation in his tone, looking at Arthur laid out, naked in their bed. “I just fixed the sheets.”

“Please.” Arthur says, sitting up with his hair loose and eyes warm, “You’re always looking for an excuse to fix the sheets.” He moves his body, leaning against Eames and kissing him, softly.

Eames doesn’t bother denying it.)

 

*

 

“It’s funny.” Ariadne says once, when she’s over in their flat, “I always imagined somewhere Eames lived being really messy. I guess Arthur keeps you in check, huh?”

Eames’ mouth quirks, “Something like that.” He says.

 

*

 

“Are all these books yours, Arthur?” Yusuf asks, looking at Eames’ library, eyes wide.

Arthur smiles, “They’re kind of a package deal.” He replies.

 

*

 

“Wow.” Dom says, as he sees their shared bedroom through the open door, “Hospital corners. Arthur must be insufferable about bedding.”

Eames laughs, head flung back, eyes smiling. “Yes.” He says, “Insufferable.”

Arthur scowls.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly didn't mean to write a fanfiction about Eames liking the bed neat. I honestly didn't _mean_ to! This is all Mals86's fault - honestly, if you want someone to blame, blame her. I am an innocent party in all of this. Innocent, I tell you! 
> 
> (I don't have a beta so if you notice any mistakes do the nice thing and tell me, because I'll be really upset if you don't. I hate typo's. They're the worst.) 
> 
> (When did I start to type with brackets and too many line breaks? Who knows. Will I stop? No. Is it an awful style of writing? Probably. Do I care? Not really.)


End file.
